50 Ways To Die: Dylan Style
by Pinefresh65
Summary: 50 oneshots of Dylan dying, it has gore, it has murderous flock members, It has PSYCHOPATHIC SHEEP. You know it's gonna be good.
1. Bleeding

**Okay, I don't wanna write this for every chapter, so here it is:**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MAXIMUM RIDE**

**Before we can begin, I want to say that some of the chapters may be a bit gory/graphic/short, that's just how I write.**

**All of the ways to die are each in individual Chapters, and I have named the chapters accordingly.**

**A short message: I DON'T FUNKING CARE ABOUT MY GRAMMAR, BLAME IT ON MY TEACHER!**

**All who ignore this message shall have the bus ninjas released upon them.**

**By the way: I know Dylan isn't in character, but it's funny to make him full of himself.**

**PS: I am going to make him die from fangirls (real original,) so, if you REALLY HATE the sin against the world that some call "Dylan" please tell me in a comment, and you can even choose your weapon, choose toast if you want, I can make it work. somehow.**

**So… anyway,**

**ON WITH THE CARNAGE! XD**

**DYLAN POV**

It was morning, I yawned and scratched my butt. I walked up the staircase and into the bathroom to find Max brushing her teeth. Now was my chance to act MANLY in front of my future girlfriend.

I walked to the sink smoothly and picked up Nudges pink shaver, I slathered some unidentifiable foam all over my chin and started to pretend to shave. Max just looked at me funny. I continued, sticking out my chest and trying to look as manly as possible, while staring at Max and grinning like an idiot.

She pointed to her chin, "You've got red on you."

I oh-so smoothly put my arm around her waist, she cringed. I said in my best man-voice, "What do you mean, fair princess?" Max turned green.

I looked over at the mirror to see a 7cm long, shaver width gash across my cheek, blood was running down my face, soaking my Hannah Montana pajamas and onto Max and the floor.

I screamed and ran downstairs, leaving Max puking about my smooth princess remark, I know she wanted me, she was just saving Fang's feelings.

I ran into the kitchen, looking for the first aid kit, but tripped over a rug and face planted onto the floor.

Ouch.

I screamed again as the massive gash in my cheek burned, not literally of course. Blood was covering the kitchen floor and there was a line of red leading to the kitchen from the bathroom, the rest of the flock had woken up at the sound of my wretched shrieking. They just stood there and watched as I slowly and painfully bled to death.

Just as I was about to die, the whole flock smiled, like they were enjoying watching THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN die. Iggy even started laughing, I looked over and saw Fang making out with 'my perfect other half,' my Max.

"NOOOOOOO!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as best as I could, trying to make myself look dramatic. The flock cringed at the sound of my voice.

Suddenly the whole world faded into blackness, the last thing I heard was Angel,

"Ugh, how disgusting, curb him before he starts to smell."


	2. Flying Fail

It was a Saturday morning, Dylan sat in a tree outside the flock's house, he didn't know how to get down, he had spent ages climbing up there. He looked down and saw Max, now was the perfect time to impress her.

**DYLAN POV**

"HEY, MAX! OVER HERE!" I yelled in her general direction, man, my voice sounded so perfect. Max looked over at me.

"I FLEW UP HERE ALL BY MYSELF!" I screamed again.

Max just walked away, mumbling something about a lying idiot? She must be talking about Fang, as if she'd choose him over **THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN**.

Angel walked over and said "Hey Dylan, you didn't fly up there, I saw you climb up."

"No, I flew up here" I lied

Angel frowned and said in her trademark creepy possessed voice _"Prove it"_

She walked over and touched the tree trunk, muttered a few words and then I heard a rumbling sound. The tree shot up into the air, it had miraculously grown about 10 metres and now there was a pool of lava surrounding the tree, my only option was to fly down.

I stared at Angel, shocked and very creeped out. "You have to come down sooner or later or you'll starve." I knew she was telling the truth, I opened my wings and tried to shoot upwards dramatically and made it about a metre upwards before I started to fall down again, I tried to flap but smashed through the tree branches, probably breaking my wings in the process.

I kept falling for a few seconds and then I splashed into the lava, I was submerged for a few seconds and was literally melting and burning at the same time but my super awesome healing wouldn't let me die, I floated for a while, screaming in agony from the repetitive extreme burning but then my healing powers gave up and I melted (painfully) into the lava and died.


	3. Zombies

**DYLAN POV**

I was walking down the street one day when I heard screaming behind me, a crowd of people ran past, knocking me over "HOW DARE YOU MAKE THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN FALL OVER, YOU ARE BARELY WORTHY OF BEING IN MY PRESENCE!" I screamed at them and looked behind me.

I saw a muddy hobo sprinting in my direction, blood coming out of his mouth and dripping from his hands, "Are you okay?" I asked, he didn't reply. He lunged at me, hands reaching for my face, but my like, super awesome ninja skills saved me. I gave him a quick upwards kick in the neck, launching him over the top of me.

He landed on the pavement behind me head-first, SPLACK! His head was now a gooey mess on the footpath; I could see that some of his brain was still inside his head when _he got up and started running after me again_. I screamed and ran as fast as I could, but that wasn't fast enough, I could hear him behind me, I changed directions and ran out onto the street but stopped in my tracks, there were about five of them making a meal out of a local shopkeeper.

I could hear the hobo groaning behind me, so I turned around and punched him in the face, straight to the mouth- which was a _very bad_ idea, he bit my hand off, it hurt quite considerably, I screeched and flailed my arm around, watching the blood pouring out of what was left of my wrist, my perfect hand was gone, that was even worse than losing my awesome-tastic foot.

The five zombies surrounded me while I was mourning the loss of my hand/screaming and started painfully biting chunks out of my shoulders, one bit into my stomach, but I died before they got my internal organs, which was good because I probably would've thrown up if I saw that, and Max does not like puke.


	4. Poisoned cream

**DYLAN POV**

It was a happy day, the kid of day that makes you think that you're in a cheesy orange juice commercial, were, any second, your mother is going to come around the corner, smiling like she had too much sugar/drugs, holding a pitcher of orange juice and saying, "good morning dear!"

Yes, it was one of those days.

I walked into the kitchen, no-one was awake yet, muahaha, my awesome High school musical alarm clock had not failed me! I tip-toed to the fridge, grinning maniacally, I opened the door and scanned the fridge for the whipped cream. I found it, shook it, and shoved the can into my mouth, spraying whipped cream down my throat. It tasted funny.

I shook it and sprayed again, it still tasted funny. As I went to shake it for a third time, my vision blurred and I felt dizzy, I fell over and crushed the whipped cream, spraying me in foam and debris from the can, which jabbed into my stomach painfully.

That wasn't the worst, though; the worst was the pounding headache and burning sensation in my stomach. I proceeded to throw up. I then tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but I couldn't feel my arms, or legs, or any part of me, really. I tried to scream, but couldn't, my vision faded away and I died in quite a bit of pain.

**2 HOURS EARLIER, GAZZY POV**

Iggy and I had just invented a new kind of poison, we called it #65, we wanted to test it out on some rats but I had a better idea, "hey, Ig, why don't we mix it with the whipped cream? Dylan is addicted to that stuff, and Angel told me that he's gonna eat it all tomorrow morning." Iggy agreed. Muahahaha, prepare to die, Dylan.


	5. The evil mole

**DYLAN POV**

I was walking down main street one day when I saw a girl walk past, she had a mole on chin, I don't mean just any mole, this one was BIG, it was taking up at least one tenth of her face, and it was soo… hypnotic_…_ I heard the mole speaking to me, it told me that I should follow, that my loyalty would be rewarded.

I followed master, the human looked back at me with blank eyes, literally, she had no irises, or pupils, or whatever you call them, her eyes were just plain white spheres. She smiled at me creepily and walked my way.

"Welcome, Dylan" she had a creepy voice, deep and metallic sounding, that was the best way I could describe it. She reached out and touched my cheek, her hand was freezing cold and it felt like I had a hundred pins sticking into my face, I felt afraid, but I would never admit it, that would never help me win Max.

She walked away, I touched my cheek and felt a gigantic mole there, "_hello, Dylan, I am your master, the mole, I control you now."_ I wondered if I was hearing things. All of my muscles suddenly froze and I couldn't feel my arms or legs, or any part of my body for that matter, I shuddered, except I didn't, it felt like I did, but I didn't move.

I started walking against my will, I could feel the mole taking over my mind _"wow, you're surprisingly weak-willed, even for a human"_ was the last thing I heard before my conscious mind faded away and… I died? I couldn't tell.


	6. Running with scissors

**DYLAN POV**

It was a Saturday and we were at home, so I decided to celebrate.

"IM RUNNING WITH SCISSOOORRRRRS!" I screamed, charging through the house, holding two pairs of scissors and giggling maniacally, I was having FUN.

I was about to pass Fang, but he stuck his foot out and I tripped over it, slamming one of the pairs of scissors into my eye and one down my throat.

I screamed in pain and saw blood gushing out of what was left of my eye and mouth, I pulled one out of my eye and immediately wished I hadn't, im not going to describe it, lets just say one of my perfect, 'dreamy' turquoise eyes was missing. I would have puked in disgust if my whole throat hadn't been blocked by a pair of scissors.

I ripped them out of my mouth and puked blood, all over Fangs shoes, he kicked me in the face.

I kept losing blood, eventually felt light headed and died.

**The moral of the story is: don't run with scissors, it doesn't feel too good in the long run**

**A.N: wow that was short, sorry.**


	7. Dancing cowboy

**DYLAN POV**

I was walking down the street, heading for my most favourite store in the whole world, diva, to buy a cute necklace I saw in the catalog yesterday when a creepy guy wearing a cowboy suit carrying a stereo came up to me. "Howdy, y'all wanna dance?"

"Umm no thanks, I'm ok" I replied back, I didn't want to be seen in public dancing with a cowboy, that would, like, totally ruin my chances with Max.

"But everybody _lurves _dancing with meeee!" I swear that was most definitely "lurves," not loves.

Before I could say anything back, he had pressed a button on the stereo, creepily familiar music started playing. The cowboy started dancing the Macarena, to make it even worse; he had the right music too.

"NOOOOOOO!" I screamed and tried to run away, the music and dancing burned my awesome Dylan-tastic ears! But I couldn't get away, I smashed into an invisible wall, and another, and another, I was trapped inside a force field with a dancing cowboy! The horror!

"C'mon c'mon girls! Increase speed!" I heard it behind me, coming closer and closer, it was dancing about twenty times the speed of the music and making a weird, indescribable sound, he was finishing the whole Macarena about 10 times each verse (if the Macarena has verses.)

He was practically whacking me in the stomach, he was invading my personal bubble, I was backed up against the edge of one of the invisible walls, trembling in fear.

The last thing anyone ever heard of me was my wretched screaming, I was never seen again.

**A.N: YAY FOR MORE SHORT CHAPS!**


	8. Changing a lightbulb

**DYLAN POV**

"FANG! THE LIGHTBULB BLEW, FIX IT!" I heard Max, my girlfriend-to-be scream from her room. Fang sighed and started towards the door, but before he got there, I tackled him and somehow managed to lock him in the hallway closet, must be my awesome DYLAN POWERS.

"Ill take care of this, TO THE DYLANMOBILE!" I yelled to no-one in particular, Fang groaned. I headed for Max's room, unbuttoning my shirt and flicking my hair around dramatically when I went into her room. "What do you need fair princESs? I tried to say it in my best man-voice, but my voice broke on princess. Max looked disgusted, "fine, you do it then."

She chucked me a lightbulb and stomped downstairs, I stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to get to the light. I eventually climbed up the cupboard to get to the light, I tried to screw the bulb in but lost my footing on the corner of the cupboard and fell off, ripping part of the ceiling down in the process.

I squirmed beneath the wreckage and broke free, but my hand touched part of the wiring and fried my hand, not to mention the rest of me. "BZZZZAGAHBBLEGZZZZZ!" My perfect hair frizzed and stuck up on my head, which, along with my burned skin and smell of smoked ham, didn't create a very charming effect.

I was determined to change this lightbulb if it killed me! FOR MAX! (I did an awesome looking army salute) I jumped up onto the bed and launched myself into the hole that was once the ceiling, I grabbed the wire and jammed the lightbulb into it, but… that didn't work, "BZZZZAGAHBBLEGZZZZZ!" this time I died.


	9. Buried alive

**DYLAN POV**

We had just flown to Mexico for some weird environmental thing that Mrs. Martinez invited us to and now we were booking a hotel.

"Ummm… 4 hotel rooms please, three with two beds each and one with a double bed" I asked the concierge. My plan would work this time, I could feel it.

"Hey Max, there's been a mess up with the rooms, one has a double bed, I guess we'll have to take that one."

"Nah, Fang and I will take that one; you can share a room with… Iggy." She smiled at Iggy and I, Iggy looked like he was gonna throw up, I started to say something back, but she walked away, leaving Iggy and I glaring at each other in the lobby.

**LATER THAT DAY**

I walked into the hotel room and went to bed, I saw Iggy sleeping on the couch, he looked hawt, I know Max would be heartbroken if she ever found out that I loved Iggy, but… at least he was single and I knew he couldn't possibly resist my charms. He was all mine.

I heard Angel knock on the door, "come in" I yelled, Iggy woke up. "Can I talk to Iggy for a second?" she was looking at me in disgust and she looked sick, just like Iggy earlier when he found out the room arrangements.

Iggy walked out and they went next door, a while later he came back, looking sick and staring at me funny again, there must be a stomach bug going around. I noticed that he was carrying an omelette.

"Hey Dylan, I noticed that you didn't eat much for dinner, so Angel and I made you an omelette."

I giggled, "but Iggy, darling, I must loose weight, I look, like, ugly and FAT"

Iggy spoke back "Dylan, you are PERFECT, you could never look ugly, just eat." He sounded like he was struggling to say "perfect," but I assumed that that was just my awesomeness taking effect.

I giggled again and shoved the whole omelette down my throat, by the time I finished it my head felt really heavy so I lay down and slept.

**IGGY POV**

Eew, I can't believe I called him perfect, but damn I'm a good actor, the drugs worked like a charm too, I laughed maniacally then grabbed him by the arm and flew out the window to join Angel and Max on our mission to rid the world of this sin against nature, we all carried Dylan to the cemetery to execute our plan. Prepare to die a slow, painful death, Dylan.

About three hours of digging later, we dumped Dylan into the makeshift burial hole thingo, whatever you call it and started filling it in again.

**DYLAN POV**

I was having a lovely but R-rated dream about Max and Iggy when I woke up and started choking on dirt. I was surrounded by dirt; I panicked and tried to flail/dig to my left but stopped when I felt a pair of skeletal hands sticking out of the wall, crawling with maggots.

Aren't people usually buried in coffins? Wait, why was there a dead person here in the first place? Wait, how could I think straight with barely any oxygen when I could barely think straight normally?

This had to be a nightmare. I started feeling sick and light-headed but at least my super awesome Dylan-tastic mutant special powers were keeping me alive for a while, but, maggots and worms were crawling all over me, I didn't have the strength to push them off, they must be attracted to my MAGNIFICENT DYLAN-NESS.

I couldn't breathe, I started hyperventilating in vain but couldn't get any air, I shrieked and clawed at the dirt for a second, then, I died.


	10. Desk

**DYLAN POV**

I was sitting at the kitchen table, doing a word find from a Girlfriend magazine, a few days ago, I had found out that I had a new power, freakish strength, which would surely help in my quest to make Max my girlfriend, I could chuck cars over people's houses, it was AWESOME (but still not as awesome as me.)

Okay, so, back to the word find, I couldn't find spaghetti, I spent the next five hours looking for spaghetti in the mass of jumbled letters. I still couldn't find it.

All of the teen angst welled up inside me, "CANT. FIND. SPAGHETTI." I shouted to no one, but in the average direction of the nearby cabbage.

"RRRRAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!" I shouted again to no-one. I started ripping out my hair in fistfuls. Blood ran down my now bald head, the super strength I had meant that now I was bald _and_ missing some of my scalp, it hurt quite considerably. I looked down at what I had ripped out of my head, eew, I didn't even want to describe the sight, I puked all over the table, that's how feral it looked.

Then it dawned on me, I was bald, nooooo! My darling Max will never love me now that I have lost my perfect salon-styled hair! The horror!

I burst into tears, making the classic "WAAAAHHHHH!" sound.

Then I bashed my head against the table, letting teen angst take over again, however my awesome manly super strength meant that my head was getting crushed by the force of it hitting the table.

First, I heard my nose shatter, blood and puke from earlier sprayed around my head, My common sense should have told me not to bash my head on the table, it would destroy those few brain cells Jeb said I had left, along with my skull, of course. But, then again, I didn't have much common sense,

The second time, my forehead split and shards of crushed bone and blood flew out, my super healing was keeping me alive, but it wasn't reconstructing my face, or stopping the searing pain. On the third "bash" my whole face was obliterated and chunks of brain were soon sliding down the table leg, if you're wondering, I died.


	11. Impaled

**DYLAN POV**

It was Thursday evening, time for another flying lesson from my one and only soon-to-be Princess charming (I had given myself the last name charming, because it summed up THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN in just one word, my… coming-up-with-names skills were AMAZING)

So, Max and I were standing at the edge of the nearby cliff, 'Okies, do a running start, fly upwards, flap for about 5 minutes and drop back down and land, then if you don't fail, we can try over the cliff." Max told me, but I wasn't listening.

"Sorry, I was lost in your eyes..." I stared at her dreamily. She turned red, not because she was embarrassed or anything, I could see that she was MAD. "You. Didn't. Listen. To. Me." she said. I had forgotten how angry she gets when we don't listen to her, I guess she didn't like that I was obsessed with her eyes like a creepy stalker too.

She stepped closer to me, it was kinda intimidating, I stepped back a bit, but stopped as I was right on the edge of the cliff, I looked down and gulped, she wasn't going to kill me, was she? No, of course not, she wouldn't kill her PERFECT OTHER HALF, the MAGNIFICENT DYLAN.

Her left eye was twitching a bit, he was reeeeally pissed off at me, why though?

Suddenly, in one swift movement, she spun into her trademark roundhouse kick, square in my chest, knocking my breath out.

I toppled backwards and fell over the cliff edge, screaming, Max stood at the top, looking triumphant and watching me fall with a smirk on her face. I fell for about three seconds, feeling the wind whip past me, trying desperately to open my wings and flap for my life, but, too late, I landed on the flag pole of the city below, being impaled doesn't feel too good.

I felt an exploding pain in my back, then I felt my spine snap, a few ribs too, then a sickening squelching sound as the flag pole pierced my skin, I was falling pretty fast, after all. I felt a lot of agonizing pain as the pole collided into some internal organs, probably my stomach or liver or something, I felt some more ribs break before the pole came out through my stomach, landing on the flag pole probably took about half a second, but it still hurt like HELL and that's an understatement.

I wondered why there wasn't a flag on at the time, wait, why am I thinking about that when I'm kinda sorta dying?

Blood squirted, like some kind of gothic vampire fountain over the house of the mayor of the town. A few rib shards were sticking out of the new hole in my stomach, making me feel like throwing up, I wondered if I could still throw up, maybe my stomach was too damaged. I slowly started sliding down the flagpole, screaming in agonizing pain. My head flopped to the side, limp from blood loss, I saw, through blurred vision, the mayor's six year old daughter in a window, she looked at me in fear, shock and horror, then, she screamed and burst into tears, she ran away from the window, I just knew that kid was going to have problems. "Help… me…" I croaked, reaching feebly towards the window. She didn't help me, I died.


	12. Frozen

**DYLAN POV**

The flock and I were on Antarctica, helping some random scientists do something. I dunno, Max just dragged us here. Anyways, we managed to get to the station before I froze to death, (I wasn't very good with cold climates, I was used to Africa.) We were told a few safety "tips" that turned slowly into a lecture, I filed my nails throughout the whole thing.

The next day, we were set on a mission to find out why some penguins in the area were endangered. I walked out of the station on my own,

"I shall save the penguins, FOR MAX!" I shouted as I ran off into the icy plains, completely forgetting my survival backpack and the scientist I was supposed to team up with.

I somehow made it to the area where the penguins were and stared at them for a while, wondering what the heck I was supposed to do, a few of the penguins looked at me, but they didn't look like penguins, not really, they were kinda, mangled looking.

They chirped at each other, for some reason, I could understand them, maybe I was two percent penguin? They said "The human shall be the next sacrifice to Xcslakleblehiss." I had no idea how to pronounce, much less spell the last word, but that's what it sounded like.

They slid towards me and grabbed my socks, they tugged at them hard, tripping me over, they started dragging me towards the water, I was flailing and screaming uselessly, some more penguin things came up behind me and lifted me up by my shirt. They continued to carry me towards the water.

When we got to the edge of the ice, I was freezing cold and there was ocean water spraying over me, the penguins started to disperse, "YEAH! THAT'S IT! FLEE FROM THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN!" however, just as I finished yelling at them, two of them came up behind me and bit at my ankles, they both managed to tear my Achilles tendon on both feet, I screamed in pain, now I couldn't walk, how was I going to get back to base surrounded by psychotic, talking penguins and unable to walk?

My thoughts were interrupted, however, when a giant, purple scaled, bright green eyed sea snake crashed out of the ice next to me, breaking off the chunk of ice I was sitting on, I screamed in surprise /terror, I was on a little platform of floating ice, unable to walk, and with a sea snake next to me, _Greeeeat. _The sea snake dived at me, I could see its fangs aimed at my stomach, dripping with some unidentifiable purple liquid, I screamed and quickly rolled out of the way into the ocean, wow, it was cold.

I fantasized that Max would dive in, rescue me and proceed to make out with me, but that didn't happen, my dreams were crushed, just like my ribs as the sea snake bit into me, morbidly pretty red swirly patterns were drifting past my head, coming out of the impressive new gaping wound in my stomach, but before I died from blood loss or getting attacked by a sea snake called Xcslakleblehiss, I froze to death in the Antarctic water, I was inside a big ice cube made of frozen blood and the unidentifiable purple liquid from the sea snake. Why didn't the snake kill me before I froze?

A few years later, my dead, frozen body was found while people were shooting a movie called Maximum Ride, the final warning. I didn't know that Max would have a movie dedicated to her, I wondered if I was in it, well I already was, you could see me in my purple and red ice cube in the corner of one of the scenes, I dunno how I could know all this while I was dead, but meh.


	13. Sheep

**DYLAN POV**

It was night time, the flock and I were in the country, staying at a weird farm holiday place with a weird name to match. I was taking a leisurely stroll outside, doing nothing in particular, well actually, I was following Max.

I hid behind a building, watching her, she walked to the other side, I changed direction to go to the other side too, so I could keep stalking her, but I slammed into something stomach-height and hard, "grrrnnaaaggghhh…" I heard whatever it was say, it was like a mix between a "baa" and a groan, I looked down and saw a sheep? It was chewing my shoe and it wouldn't let go, I tugged at it as hard as I could, and it pulled free, the sheep looked up at me with purple, glowing eyes, "grrrnnaaaggghhh…" It said again, this "sheep" was creeping me out.

I started to run away screaming, but it was faster, it ran up behind me and head butted me, sending me flying down the hill into a puddle of mud, my hair was RUINED. I nearly cried, but I was more freaked out by the sheep's unnatural strength, I heard two "grrrnnaaaggghhh's" behind me and turned around, to my horror, there were two more of them, they casually knocked me over using their weird strength and stepped casually onto my arms, pinning me down, man, they were HEAVY.

I looked up to see what I assumed was the leader sheep (the one from earlier) walking down the hill, all of the power from the streetlights blacked out, but I caught brief glances of the approaching sheep from a lightning storm that had randomly started (wow, a lightning storm with a murderous thing walking towards you, soo not overused at all.)

The lightning halted as the sheep stood right in front of me, he grunted at the other two sheep and they all grabbed me, two by my shoes, and the leader by my collar, they dragged me to the forest, I was screaming, but no one came to help me, not even Max. The human-avian hybrid Dylan disappeared, to never be seen again, but the next day, there was a new sheep at the farm, with turquoise eyes. That sheep, was me.


	14. Strangled

Credits to RIDE-to-the-MAX for requesting this fic! I finally started working on requests! YAY!

**DYLAN POV**

I was listening to Lady Gaga on my new, *shiny* Ipod while dancing insanely on the kitchen table and singing along.

"Rah, rah, ah, ah, ah, Roma, roma, ma, Gaga, ooh la la!" I stopped singing and dancing abruptly as I saw Fang and Max enter the room. They were staring at me. "Hey, Dylan…?" Max asked me.

"Yes Max, darling?" I replied. "Ummm… we feel it's best that you… no longer live. Get him." Max looked at Fang. He leapt up on the table in one motion and wrapped his arm around my neck, he proceeded to strangle me. I made funny little gagging noises and flailed around, breaking some vases and other smash-able objects.

I didn't want to die NOW! The Hannah Montana movie was coming out tomorrow! I grabbed a bunch of plastic flowers from the vase in the middle of the table and tried to bash Fang in the head with them. I failed miserably, Max laughed at my impending death, I looked at her and started bawling.

Now, crying and choking aren't a great mix, because when you want to suck in breath to keep crying, you can't, and it doesn't feel too good. I made more gagging sounds, except mix in a little of that noise people make when they are trying to scream with a mouth full of whipped cream. "!" was about right.

Fang suddenly pulled me sideways, spinning on the spot, to face Max. She laughed some more then proceeded to kick me square in the jaw, spraying blood everywhere, then she jabbed me just below my ribcage, aiming for my kidneys, which hurt quite a lot. I lost consciousness eventually, the sound of Max and Fang's laughter fading away as I desperately tried to breathe. I couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu as I died.


	15. Twilight

A.N: *Sigh* I really wanted to keep this free of Twilight-related stuff, but it was unavoidable in the end. FYI, I am not a complete twi-hater, I think it's ok, but It's just so easy to make fun of, especially with the insane fangirls and cheesy merchandise. ENJOY!

Credits to siriusly chibi for requesting this fic! 'twas a good idea :D

**DYLAN POV**

We were flying around, trying to find a place to stay for the night, and when I say we were flying, I mean everyone was flying except for me, I was being pulled behind by a rope tied around my waist. I couldn't quite fly yet, if you're wondering why.

We eventually found a little depressing town near a beach called spoons, forks, sporks or foons. I couldn't quite remember which, but we landed on the beach, I was being scraped along the ground, as I was on a rope being pulled by Fang and Iggy who must have forgotten about me and were flying unusually low.

We walked up the beach, shivering because it was raining. We headed towards the forest to sleep in a tree or something. The forest was slightly less depressing than the town, at least the trees stopped the rain.

A while later my darling Max went out to get lunch for us with Gazzy and Angel, Nudge was talking to Fang, and Iggy was making something explosive, so I decided to explore.

I ran into the deep part of the forest and kept running, running, running, running some more but stopped as I saw a clearing after about three hours, I saw three people in the clearing, a tall, pale guy who looked like someone had slammed a couple of doors into his face as it was so flat, seriously. But at the same time he was like, sooooooooooooooooo hawt! OMG OMG OMG! HE WAS BETTER THAN MAX!

After staring at him, I saw that he was holding hands with a grotesque looking gorilla, oh, wait, it was a brunette girl with a furry brown jacket on. I gasped, that must be his girlfriend! Meh, I'm soo much more good looking than her, she doesn't stand a chance against THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN. I looked at the third figure, it was a shirtless tanned guy who looked like he had anger- management issues as he was glaring at everything that moved. The Gorilla girl was staring at both of the guys and hyperventilating.

The pale guy looked in my direction with an expression of surprise and disgust. OMG OMG HE LOOKED AT ME! I nearly fainted, but managed to step out from the trees and wave at him cheesily. The pale guy leaned in and said something to gorilla girl, she gasped and frowned at me, wow, she looked about 30 when she did that.

She stomped over to me, but stumbled on a tree root and fell on her face, she sat up and started screaming. 'OMG OMG EEEEEEDDDDDWWWAAAARRRRRDDDDDD!" She pointed at me. "HE HAS PSYCHIC POWERSSSSSSS! HEEEEE'SSSSS A VAAAMMMMPIIIIRRREEEEE! HE MADDEEEE MEEEE DOOOO THAAAAAAATTTTTTTT!' I cringed partly at the sound of her voice, partly at her face, she was covered in mud, she looked even more like a gorilla now.

The pale guy ran over to her, well, I think it was running, it was too fast, but slower than Max's supersonic speed, sigh, Maxxx… 3. The pale guy looked disgusted again, maybe he was a mind-reader, I WAS having some pretty perverted thoughts. He faced away from me and whistled towards the forest, about three seconds later, six more pale people came out from nowhere at the same impossible speed. They all formed a circle. 'Cullens, UNITEEEE!' they all shouted and bashed rings together in the air like in a cheesy anime, I was confused. The gorilla girl, still pointing at me screamed, 'DESTROY HIIIIIIIIMMMMM!' The "Cullens" all lined up for some reason, the first one walked up, 'Hi I'm Jasper, I have to kill you, cos we all have to protect Bella for some unknown illogical reason.' He pointed at gorilla girl.

I stared at him, terrified, I collapsed onto the floor in the fetal position and cried, begging him not to kill me between sobs. He started crying too, "S-s-stooopppp itttttt!" he shouted, he clawed at the sides of his head like he had a REALLY bad headache. Then ran away screaming at the same speed as door face. "Okies that was weeeird" I said as I watched him disappear into the forest.

The second one came, "Ugh, Jasper is useless, you see, he can read other people's emotions, I however, am preetttyyyyyyyy!" she did a little twirl. I stared at her, I was still on the floor, now, how was I going to kill a self- centred blonde b**ch? I grabbed a fistful of mud and flung it at her face, her designer clothes, anywhere, I managed to cover her in mud, self-centred vain people hate that! "MY HAIIIIRRRRR! I NEEED MY OVERPRICED SHAMPOO!" She cried and ran away, just like the first one, Jasper or something, wow, these guys were pathetic.

Jasper, Rosalie, and three of the other ones started playing baseball randomly, there was loud music about black holes playing for some unknown reason. The fourth one stepped up, It was HIM!

The hawwwttttt guy walked forwards, I started hyperventilating. "Bella" stood next to him and grabbed his arm, "Eddy! He's dangerous! His perv- levels are too high! What are we going to do!" She put the back of her hand against her forehead like she was about to faint or something.

"I know, love, there is only one option! SPARKLE POWERRRR! He ripped his shirt off and a barrage of sparkles blinded me, I screamed. A rainbow beamed out of his "abs" and struck me square in the stomach, I screamed louder, it burned! I flailed around for a bit, screaming "NNNNOOOOOOOOOOoooooo!" but died eventually, leaving the Cullens to their baseball match and the tan guy to his… just… standing there.


	16. Fire

**DYLAN POV**

It was 2am, time for some super Dylan ninja-like action! My mission: To drink the remaining iced coffee and blame it on Fang, Max would hate him, and she would be all mine. I ninja commando rolled out of my bed, trying to be quiet but landed on my bedside table and smashed the lamp that I really shouldn't have turned on, see, the bulb was reeeeally hot, and it was electrical, so now my awesome hello kitty boxers were on fire.

"AAAHMMAGGAAAHHHDDD!" I shrieked, rolling off the bedside table onto the floor. I flailed around a bit then finally I got up and ran into Max's room, she would help me. "MAAAAAXXXX! MAAAAAXXXXX! MY ASS IS ON FIRE!" I yelled, jumping on her bed and screaming in her face. "Zzzzhhhnnwhaa?" She looked at me sleepily, "Congratulations, you must be such a… happy mother…" She rolled over.

I started shrieking as the flames got to my Hannah Montana brand socks (seriously, they print her face on everything) My legs were fireballs now, why was this burning so slow? "The pain… the painnn…" I feebly reached towards the ceiling, hoping for the smoke alarm to finally start working. Oh, yeah, I said I would replace the batteries after ICarly, whoops, I forgot… But… I just HAD to see if ICarly would be cancelled or not! I mean, you can HARDLY blame me! Hmmm… I wondered why Max's bed wasn't on fire, I was lying at the end of the bed, on fire, the covers weren't even slightly singed. The fire was too hot, hot, hot. Why wasn't I dead yet?

"!" That was the best way I could describe the sound I was making. "Nnnnnggghhh Shadddaapp…" I heard Max mutter from under the covers. WHAM! A pillow collided with the side of my head, well, what was left of my head that wasn't singed human flesh desperately trying to heal itself, aaahhh… so that's what was keeping me alive. Suddenly, the burning stopped, I looked down at my arm, it was still on fire and it was burned through to the bone! But I couldn't feel it. Crap, MY NERVES WERE DESTROYED! Oh well… I thought as I slipped off into a coma, then death. sigh, dying isn't so bad.


	17. Old lady

**Credits to Dylansux for coming up with the idea for this one… kinda… well, they came up with the old lady thing, I just changed it from killing him with her bare hands to giving her "weapons." ENJOY.**

**DYLAN POV**

I was randomly walking down the street one day when I saw an old lady with a hideous bun hairdo staring at me, I looked at her and frowned, then she started waddling towards me. When she was about an arm's length away from me she glared at me and pointed at my face "HOLY TUNA! IT'S THE ANTI-CHRIST!" Wtf? I slapped her hand away, she was irritating, and weird, and now everyone in the street was looking at me. "DON'T YOU DARE USE THAT TONE WITH ME!" She stamped her foot, a crunching sound came from her ankle. She didn't notice. "Umm… but I didn't say anything… and a tone is a lighter version of a colour… ya know, with white mixed in?" I told her.

"DIE DEVIL SPAWN!" she ripped a knitting needle out of her bag and dived at me, aiming the knitting needle at my heart. "KNNNNYYYAAAAAHHHHHH!" She started shrieking like a banshee. I started screaming too, but that was because I now had a knitting needle impaled in my shoulder as a result of a poorly executed dodge. I ripped the needle out of me and immediately regretted it as blood started pouring out of the new orifice in my shoulder.

The old lady ripped off her coat to reveal two bags full of knitting needles tied around her waist, _Oh God_,this was kinda sad. She grabbed a handful of knitting needles and ran towards me again, she threw them at me and managed to somehow impale my shoulders and legs with the needles, I nearly fell forward, but couldn't, the knitting needles were going through me and into the wall. I was stuck, and screwed, and bleeding an awful lot.

The old lady walked up, smiling. She grabbed her handbag and started whacking me in the face with it, and I don't mean the feeble whacking it should have been, it was like a sledgehammer blow. She dislocated my jaw on the first hit and I heard a few cracks as she continued whacking me over and over again. I died, impaled against the wall with knitting needles and covered in bruises and cuts from the zipper on the old lady's bag.


	18. Eaten by slugs

**This one can be a little gross if you are very good at picturing things…**

**DYLAN POV**

I was standing in the backyard, helping Max do the weeding or whatever it was called, when I noticed that there was a slug on my leg. "EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW!" I peeled it off my leg and chucked it over the fence. There was a second one on my arm. I chucked it over the fence again. There were another three on my leg again, I tried to get them off, but they wouldn't budge. Then, the area just where the slugs were making contact with my skin started hurting. a lot. "AAAhhhggg!" I screamed. A dribble of blood came out from two of the snails' mouths; they started moving slowly up my leg, the pain moved along with them. Some of my skin was missing where they had been before.

The slugs were eating my skin.

That's bad.

"Kwwaaaahhhyyaaaaagggghhhh!" I yelled and jumped around like a maniac, trying to swipe them off. I tried getting on the ground and squishing them against the floor, but it was no use, it was like they were made of metal or something! There were now three thin snail- width gashes going up my leg. It felt like someone was slicing my skin off with a carrot peeler. I rolled around on the floor for a while, trying desperately to squish them. I stopped dead when I saw that I was surrounded by millions of slugs.

The slugs advanced on me, covering my hands, my legs and my face. One that crawled onto my face made its way up to my eye, I should have closed my eyes but I was petrified, watching it, It crawled onto my eye, shredding my skin away as it went, I saw a million pairs of razor sharp teeth that were too close for comfort, I felt an unbearable pain on my eye, then I saw nothing. The same happened to my other eye. Crap. I started screaming more, where was Max?

**THIRD PERSON POV (wow first time I've done one, well, ya gotta when the person is blind)**

Dylan was madly thrashing around, all you could see was a mess of bloodthirsty slugs squirming around on a bleeding, grotesquely shaped… well; he could barely be called human anymore, could he? Blood was running off of him, pooling on the surface of the concrete and dripping into Angel's strawberry bushes. Whenever there was a gap in the slugs, all you could see was red and the occasional vein, sometimes where the slugs had eaten a lot, you could see a bone through the thin amount of 'meat' left on this poor pathetic excuse for a… part… human.

The slugs then started burrowing into him, they punctured his neck, just near where his human "glands" were, almost all of the slugs entered this new orifice, the rest entered his mouth, nose or ears. Blood, pus and slug juice was pouring out of his neck. He must have had an infection, poor thing. He clawed at his throat for a bit, he had pretty much no skin left, you could see some of his vital organs through him. It was amazing that he was alive still. He stopped clawing at his neck and screaming, you could see his heart stop beating through what was left of his chest, then it was covered by a mass of slimy black squirming things and was gone within a minutes time. The slugs completely skeletonised him, then left him there, blood was cascading into the garden, making Angel's strawberry plants an eerie dark blood red colour, as well as the mulch surrounding it.


	19. Ferris Wheel

**DYLAN POV**

We were at some carnival thing, wandering around pointlessly, when I saw something shiny underneath the Ferris wheel. It looked like money, I could use this money to buy Max a snow-cone! Let's see Fang top THAT! She wouldn't be able to resist THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN after that!

I posed dramatically.

I ran away from the group to try and grab it, some of the Ferris wheel operators tried to stop me, they failed. One of the carriages came down on top of my head, crushing me against the floor. It didn't stop, it dragged me across the painful asphalt, grazing me and crushing me at the same time. Finally the carriage left, I tried to get the shiny thing I saw before, but I didn't quite make it before the next carriage whacked me in the side of the head, something warm, wet and blood coloured was leaking out of a new crack in the side of my head.

I ran forward, desperate to get the money. Another carriage did something similar to the last one. I grabbed the money, finally! Another carriage came along and finished me off, breaking my arm and head as I was facing the crowd, waving the shiny thing I assumed was money at them triumphantly.

The last thing I saw was the "money"- actually a silver paperclip fall from my hand, bloodstained from the onslaught of carriages containing morbidly obese kids who had had WAY too much deep fried carnival food. My vision faded, and I died, crushed by a Ferris wheel while retrieving a paperclip. What a stupid way to die… Shoulda been Fang, he's stupid.


	20. Crushed by weights

**THANKS TO: wingedwolf1 for requesting this chap! its not exactly what you said, but... yeah, sorry**

**A NOT SO QUICK NOTE:**

**Me: wow, the 20th chap, 5 more until the fangirl mob death... **

**Cristos the humpbacked midget: "Umm... master? theres only 7 humans in your army, and only 3 of them are here because they want to be... dont hurt me"**

**Me: "WHAT? Dont these humans want this... "thing" dead! he could bring down civilisation before I do! THE EARTH IS MINE, DYLAN!"**

**PLEASE JOIN THE MOB! ITS HARDLY A MOB AT THE MOMENT! ITS LIKE A GATHERING OF "CHUMS" AFTER SCHOOL! (dunno where i heard the word chum used in that way...)**

**DYLAN POV**

I was following Max and Fang around the street, just seeing what they were doing. I saw them walk into a strange building called a… gym? What the heck is a gym? Hmm… gym... Jam… jam donuts… Mmm… I started drooling all over the footpath, thinking about donuts. I then realised that I had just lost Max and Fang. I ran into the gym, through a room of sweaty people covered in fake tan, and straight into Max, sitting at the smoothie bar with Fang, hehehe he's so gay! i mean, what kind of a guy likes smoothies! i mean, like, seriously!

"NNNnaaaaggghh! Oh, hey… Dylan… what are you doing here?" I started panicking, she couldn't know I was following her! "I'm… im… uh… using this thing!" I ran over to a piece of weird looking machinery, grabbed a pair of weights, lay down on the machine and started doing what the other people in front of me were doing. Wow, the weights were heavy, my arms started shaking under the weight. The machine I was sitting on beeped, I heard gears running and then I lurched backwards. "You do know that that's a treadmill, right? Hey, whats a treadmill doing at the smoothie bar? who even says smoothie bar anymore?" I heard Max say. My head slammed into plastic and my hair caught in the gears.

I dropped the weights, right onto my chest, crushing a few ribs, I made a strange noise, a mix between a sharp exhale and a gurgle, it sounded like I had rabies. I tried to roll the barbell or whatever it was called off of me, crushing several more ribs, half of my hair was in the machine, the back of my head was bleeding.

Above me, Max reached over and pushed a button, still slurping her 'power drive' smoothie. The machine tilted. I slowly slid down towards the front, more hair was ripped out of my skull, then my shirt collar was caught. the weight thingo rolled down towards my head, crushing my neck and then horribly disfiguring my face, I died, I dunno what ended up killing me though, probably blood loss...


	21. Mirrors

**THANKS TO ST. FANG OF BOREDOM FOR REQUESTING THIS CHAP :D**

**DYLAN POV**

"Hall of mirrors, hey? I, THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN, AM NOT AFRAID OF THIS HALL OF MIRRORS OF WHICH YOU SPEAK!" I charged into the cheesy carnival ride, not bothering to buy a ticket, several carnies were chasing after me. When I stepped in, I was immediately confused, my reflection was on every blank square of the room, even the ceiling and floor were covered in mirrors. I looked at myself on one of the walls.

"Argh, OW!" The second I looked at my face, I suddenly got a massive headache and my eyes started burning, like someone had just dumped a bottle of lemon juice on my face. I rubbed my eyes, there was something warm covering my hands and dripping down my face… something red?

Blood. Crap.

I screamed and tried to run for the exit, but I couldn't find my way out of the maze, hey, even THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN Isn't perfect, I'm just as close to perfect as is possible. I kept accidentally looking at my face in a mirror every so often, bringing another onslaught of burning pain. Once I ran headfirst into a corner, cutting my forehead on the sharp edge of a mirror that hadn't been set on the wall properly, but that was nothing compared to the headache and burning sensation in my bleeding eyes.

I eventually collapsed on the mirrored floor, either exhausted from all of the running or from bloodloss, everything went black and I died in a cheesy little carnival ride, because I saw my face in a few mirrors, meh. At least my corpse would scare a few kids.


	22. Do you liek Mudkipz?

**Hello again… sorry I haven't updated in ages, I kinda had one of those phases where you kinda go "Hmm… I really should update my fanfic… How long has it been since the last update?" *looks at computer***

"**Wow, that's a loooong time… I really should put in a new chapter… meh. I'll do it later…"**

**Sooo… yeah, but I am finally updating! YAY!**

**(Btw, "Liek" and "Mudkipz" are supposed to be spelt wrong, this is based on a random internet Meme, not my fault…)**

**DYLAN POV**

It was a bright, sunny July afternoon, I was sitting on a bench in a park that just happened to be nearby, when suddenly I heard familiar footsteps behind me. I immediately knew it was Max. How, you ask? Well… when you've stalked Max as many times as I have, you know everything about her.

"Hey… Dylan?" She asked, coming from behind me, fidgeting with her sleeve. I turned around slowly, but flicking my hair across my face, trying to be suggestive.

"Hnnyesss, princesssss…?" I tried to look suggestive again, winking at her. Max flinched.

"Can I ask you something, being serious?" She asked me, sitting down on the bench beside me but looking at the floor. I nodded and winked again, grinning. She leaned up close to whisper in my ear.

"Do you liek Mudkipz?"

"Whaa?" Was my intelligent yet DYLAN-TASTIC response.

She bolted upright, and raised her arms above her head like she was doing a Mexican wave. "WAVE OF MUDKIPZ!" She shouted, still standing.

The ground started rumbling, and within half a second a massive wave of blue and orange completely swamped the park, the worst of it hitting me. I was knocked backwards, stunned as the wave of Mudkips disintegrated until there were just Mudkips lying around the park making strange noises. Lying on my back, I saw one on my stomach, looking up at me with pixelated eyes.

A famous historian that just happened to be nearby said, "In Soviet Russia… The Pokemon train you" The Mudkip pulled out a meat cleaver and opened its mouth to reveal shark-like teeth dripping with blood. I screamed, not a girly scream… a MANLY scream.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Max yelling, a crazy look in her eyes "IT'S A TRAP!" She yelled and pointed at the Mudkip despite being only about a metre away from it, she pulled a bazooka out of her pocket.

_Wow, that's one big pocket…_ I thought. She fired the bazooka at the Mudkip but got both of us,

I died.


	23. Marshmallows

**AUTHORS NOTE: I AM SO, SO VERY EXCEEDINGLY SORRY ABOUT THE PATHETICALLY SLOW UPDATES! I HAD A REALLY BAD WRITERS BLOCK! (Or maybe it's because I've been writing only stories about Dylan dying for so long) Meh. To make up for it, this one is double length! I'll leave it up to you to decide whether you like that or not, anyways. ENJOY! **

**DYLAN POV**

It was a cold day.

A very cold day.

A very, very cold day.

I stood in the kitchen, shivering. I looked to my left.

On the second shelf from the left was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen.

(Not including Max, of course…)

A tin of hot chocolate powder, one of those ones with fancy packaging that you get in gift packs. A silver tin, wrapped around the middle was a brown band of paper with little cartoony pink flowers on it.

It was sooo preeetyyyy… (Like Max, but Max just… doesn't do pink flowers…)

I jumped up to grab it, (curse my short height) the whole world went in slow-motion while I reached for the tin in mid-air, my fingers wrapped around the tin. A giddy smile was still on my face when everything returned to normal speed and I slammed my chin on the counter whilst landing.

Rubbing my chin (using the pain more as an excuse to search for stubble) I walked over to the kettle, switched it on and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. When the water had boiled, I made my hot chocolate and put two marshmallows in it, but there was a MAJOR problem. A really big problem, a problem that could change the course of the universe forever.

The marshmallows weren't melting fast enough… D:

Infuriated by having to wait for those squishy pink blobs, I took two new marshmallows and put them in another mug.

Aw, hell.

I put the whole packet in (somehow)

"NOW, YOU… YOU… MARSHMALLOWS! YOU SHALL RUE THE DAY YOU MESSED WITH DYLAN! PREPARE FOR YOUR DESTRUCTION!" I hissed; spit flying everywhere whilst I pointed at the marshmallows. The marshmallows remained expressionless.

Angry at the marshmallows' neutral reaction, I hastily put the mug in the microwave and put it on high for thirty seconds. Laughing like a maniac, I then hoisted myself up onto the kitchen counter and busied myself filing my nails.

About two seconds later, I got a sudden bad feeling. I blew the nail filings off of my finger and glanced up at the microwave, the mug was still there, spinning around on the microwave dish, but the side of the mug was covered in molten marshmallow, slowly oozing out onto the microwave dish. Suddenly, a mountain of foam cascaded out of the top of the mug, making a 'pfft' sound. The kitchen was filled with the not-too-pleasant aroma of burning marshmallows.

I jumped off of the counter, doing a ninja commando roll as I landed, gaining a few bruises and broken ribs. (The kitchen wasn't quite big enough…) I jumped up from where I was sprawled upon the floor (from the failed ninja commando roll) and looked in at the mug of steaming, frothing marshmallows. I pressed the stop button, but it did nothing, the microwave kept on, uh… microwaving…

When the button that opens the door didn't work either, I ripped the door open the 'manual way'- by clawing it open. Choking back a sob when I broke one of my fingernails, I reached in, about to grab the mug, when the blob of marshmallow foam that had previously been sliding down the side of the mug _moved._ And I don't mean just like the bubbling that every other blob was doing, I mean as in it rolled sideways and started crawling towards my hand. caterpillar-style. I quickly retracted my hand and slammed the door shut. The marshmallow-caterpillar thing started writhing and head-butting the inside of the microwave door (even though I had no idea what part of it was its head.)

I then realised that there were a lot of the catermallows* crawling out of the mug, they were still swelling up and getting bigger, as the microwave was still on. More of them were rubbing what I assumed was their head against the microwave door, leaving trails of molten marshmallowy goo smeared all over the glass. They all had eyes and mouths, well, more like holes in their heads that looked like facial features. They all had their mouths open and were screeching, sounding almost exactly like the mandrakes off of Harry Potter 1- more of a high pitched "SKREEEEE!"

Suddenly the microwave exploded, I raised my hands up to my face to protect my makeup from the onslaught of glass and molten marshmallows/ catermallows. When I opened my eyes, certain that there was no more glass flying around, the mound of marshmallows had grown about ten times its original size and a few of the catermallows were crawling up my sneakers. The molten lump of marshmallows kept growing, speeding up now that it was outside of the microwave. It was now covering my sneakers in sugary pink foam. Some of the catermallows had now reached my stomach, they all opened their mouths and spoke in exact unison: "Thank you for hatching uss… it takesss… heeaaat to hatchh our eggss… you humansss have been harvesting and eeeating our unborn young for… too long…" Whaa? Marshmallows are just creepy catermallow eggs? Eww… I felt sick at this new information.

The pink, molten foam had reached my knees, I screamed a very manly scream and hopped from foot to foot, the marshmallows burning my skin. I tried to run, escape the burning foam but it was sticky. I fell over, unable to move my legs anymore. I was completely submersed in marshmallow foam. I couldn't tell what killed me first, the heat or suffocation in a gooey pink grave.

(*my little name for them, 'caterpillar-marshmallow things' is too tedious to type according to that demonic being who watches and records my suffering for the enjoyment of anti-Dylan fangirls.)


	24. CupaSoup

**.::IMPORTANT MESSAGE INCOMING::.**

**ALL MOB MEMBERS! (and anyone else): NEXT CHAPTER IS THE HALFWAY MARK! (kinda) THE FANGIRL MOB DEATH! SO I MIGHT NOT UPDATE FOR A WHILE AGAIN, IT'S STILL NOT TOO LATE TO JOIN THE MOB! CHECK THE LIST ON MY PROFILE TO SEE IF YOU ARE THERE!**

**I got the idea for this when I was on a sugar high, my poor friends had to listen to me… Sorry it's short, but it's hard to expand this one…**

**DYLAN POV**

One day, I was sitting at home watching Dora the Explorer on tv, enjoying a particularly tasty muffin. Then, somewhere in the world, somebody made a cup-a-soup.

IN A BOWL. *PSAG!*

The universe exploded.


	25. Fangirl mob 1

**A.N: I can't get all of your personalities right, so I just made you all stereotypical homicidal fangirls (I dunno what gender you guys are either, sorry.) Please note that your names are in italics.**

**PINEFRESH65 POV**

It was half past seven pm.

I stood atop a shipping crate, addressing a group of homicidal fangirls who, in a few minutes, were going to wipe Dylan off the face of the Earth. We were standing in a clearing near a road waiting for Dylan. I just had to get the mob's attention.

"CEASE YOUR FLATULENT WINDS AND HEAR MY MIND-NUMBING EXPULSIONS OF WICKED NOISE!" I shouted at the crowd. They all stopped talking and stared at me. "Good. Now that I have your attention, there are just a few announcements I would like to make." I continued, twirling my herring around in my hands absent-mindedly while staring at the mob of around 23.

"Tonight, Dylan Ride is going down! Tonight, he will die. Sadly, not all of you can have the privilege of finishing him off, that job goes to _Cody_ and _Dylansux_." I pointed my herring at them as I said their names. "HOWEVER! All of you can maim, gore or badly hurt him. So no kill shots, and _Max_ _Jacksn Cahil_, your weapon, a laser gun. Is the only one I have changed. Instead of being able to cut him in half like a regular laser gun, yours will be mainly for pointing purposes. But it IS pretty bright to stare at."

"Going on…We have received intelligence from the purple stalkers.." I pointed my herring at two purple human-shaped silhouettes at the back of the mob. "That Dylan goes to this little nail salon here every night, so he should be out in about…" I looked at my watch "Two minutes! Positions, people!"

We all mobbed into a vaguely mob-shaped mob and proceeded to stare like exorcised ghosts at the door to the salon, hiding behind a few bushes. Two minutes later, Dylan came out with French-tipped nails. "!" I screamed, jumping out from behind the mosquito-infested bush, brandishing my herring like a sword. Dylan turned around to face my general direction.

"Wh-" Dylan started, but as soon as he turned around, _Max Jacksn Cahil_ shot him directly in the eye with a laser. Dylan screamed in pain and collapsed onto the footpath, rolling around with his hands covering his eyes. Ignoring the mob walking towards him.

"Oooh, retina burn. Nice shot!" I hi-fived _Max Jacksn_.

"Hey, Pine?" asked The _Codebreaker_. "Is he gonna be blind or dead now, 'cos I kinda wanted to do that…"

"Temporarily blind, not dead." I replied. "Now! MASSACRE HIM!" I was answered by a chorus of cheers.

_Fnick's Witness_ clubbed him over the back of the head with Perry the platypus, then suddenly it was just a big blur of kicking, chainsawing and screaming.

Eventually we realised that he had somehow replaced himself with Justin Bieber and was running down the street (Sorry to any JB fans in the mob.) "_SCOOGE! TAHITI_! Finish him off, we'll take care of Dylan." I ordered. _Scooge_ pulled a crossaint out of her pocket and edged towards Bieber, while the rest of us tore after Dylan.

_Narutard-Akatard-Lolfreak-C_ threw Kunai at him, one grazed the back of his knee, causing him to yelp and stumble a bit, but he kept running. Then he folded out his wings and flew. He got about five metres up, out of our reach, and started making rude gestures and mocking us.

When suddenly _Vinylprincessof1986_ burst onto the scene with her demonic cocker spaniel (named Bubbles) She grinned evilly, the effect even creepier with her purple eyes glowing in the streetlights, Dylan looked like he was about to pee himself in fear, then he really did pee himself in fear. The demonic Cocker Spaniel (Named Bubbles) jumped at an unnatural height, bit Dylan's backside and held on. Five metres in the air.

"Wooooow…" I said, staring at the demonic Cocker Spaniel (Named Bubbles) in amazement.

"Yeah… Woooow…" copied a few in the mob.

"I don't think that's gonna bring him down, though… Hey, you should call that dog 'Buttmuncher'" Commented _Strawberry_, another that I forced to join.

"HIS NAME IS BUBBLES, BIATCH!" _Vinylprincess_ yelled at her, Bubbles jumped down and started skeletonising _Strawberry_.

I sighed, "_FLASH_! ASSISTANCE PLEASE?" I yelled. _FlashOutOfTheSky_ came forward, raised a hand at Dylan, then shot a fireball at him. Dylan came down like a flaming fat… thingy. Then _Flash_'s Hellhound came and bit one of Dylan's wings off, the other one was taken care of by a certain Demonic Cocker spaniel (named Bubbles.) Dylan shrieked in pain. We left the hellhound and Demonic Cocker Spaniel (Named Bubbles) to chew on the wings (and the remains of _Strawberry_), their owners staying with them.

Dylan had run off again, but it was easy to tell where he was headed because he left a trail of blood behind him. And he was screaming pretty loudly.

He was going to Max for help.

_Pathetic…_

We followed the screaming until we found the flock's house, a two storey ex-holiday-rental home, Dylan obviously didn't note that it had a sliding door as he was screaming and banging and clawing his French tipped nails down it. We snuck up behind him, _Narutard-Akatard-Lolfreak-C-_ Swung a scythe aimed at the neck of the repulsive creature. He turned around and managed to duck in time, but the scythe cut off half of the hair on the top of his head, he now had a massive bald patch. Everyone in the mob laughed and hi-fived _Narutard_ while Dylan was kneeling on the yellow brick floor, whimpering and stroking the hair, whispering something like- "Shh… it's ok, mommy's here, mommy still loves you."

"HEY! GUYS! WHAT'S GOING ON DOWN THERE?" We looked up, seeing Angel's blonde head poking out of the second floor window.

"WE'RE KILLING DYLAN! WANNA HELP?" _Ivyheart _yelled back.

"HECK YEAH!" We all heard Iggy yell from somewhere inside the house. Moments later, the entire flock had joined the mob, well… Max, Fang, Iggy, Gazzy and Angel were kicking him, Total peed on his face and Nudge and Angel were giving everyone in the mob cookies. Including the several demonic pets and _AngelandTonks'_ minion army.

Mmm… cookies.

"C-can I have a cookie?" Dylan asked, barely able to breathe in his current state.

"NO, NOW GET MY NASONEX YOU SWINE!" Max pointed at him.

"Y-yes my preciousss beautiful *cough* Maxxxyyy…3" Dylan rasped, coughing blood and crawling into the house to get Max's Nasonex.

"Less than 3? Is that some kinda alien language?" I wondered aloud. "Oh, it's a heart…!" I said, finally getting it.

Dylan came outside again, Nasonex in hand. He passed it to Max, who took it and sprayed it in his eyes. "Aaaaugghh!"

"Hey, wait…how did you find the nasonex if you have retina burn?" _Trouble4eva_ asked Dylan.

"Don't you remember? He has mystical magical saliva that can heal him and stuff!" _Fnick's Witness _replied.

"Did you lick your eyeballs?"_ Ivyheart_ asked Dylan.

"Eww!" Half of the mob looked at him in disgust.

"You're gonna get conjunctivitis if that's how you spell it"

"Well, he can't heal his eyes or get conjunctivitis if he has no eyeballs!" _Trouble4eva_ said, unsheathing a toothbrush and edging towards Dylan.

"My good friend, your logic astounds me, it's the only perfect solution!" I patted _Trouble4eva _on the back. "By the way, why did you make a sheath for your toothbrush?" I raised an eyebrow at my toothbrush-wielding friend.

Not answering, _Trouble4eva_ walked casually up to Dylan's whimpering form, accompanied by _Wingedwolf1_, who held a Band-Aid.

The entire mob and flock (except for _Trouble4eva_ and _Wingedwolf1_) sat inside the house, eating cookies and watching the two mob members outside gouge Dylan's eyes out.

"So, guys." We heard Max say from the kitchen. "…What kind of tea do you guys want?"

"Umm… there's more than one kind?" _Ivyheart_ looked at Max questioningly.

"Yeah, we have: blueberry, raspberry, ginseng, sleepytime, green tea, green tea with lemon, green tea with lemon and honey, liver disaster, ginger with honey, ginger without honey, vanilla almond, white truffle coconut, chamomile, blueberry chamomile, decaf vanilla walnut, constant comment and earl grey."*

She looked back at our confused faces.

"I'll have earl grey!" Angel piped from her place on one of the couches.

"Ginger with honey, thanks." Iggy ordered.

"Can I try constant comment, Max?" Gazzy asked.

In the end, about half of the mob chose constant comment, sleepytime or liver disaster. I didn't know that the flock owned 30 tea cups. (Just estimating the number) Eventually we all had our tea, and unfortunately, the people who ordered Constant comment were commenting on EVERYTHING. CONSTANTLY.

"I like the colour you chose for the ceiling, Max, it's nice and… white…"

"I like your hair today, Max!"

"The air conditioner is on just the right setting, it is perfect in here."

"Ah, look at all the blood outside, why can't I join in?"

"Wow, the cushions are really square, I like triangles better, but I guess you can't get triangular cushions."

"Ah, ya gotta love oxygen, I mean… you can breathe it in… and out… in… and out…"

The people who ordered Sleepytime were lying on the floor, sleeping and generally getting in the way. The people who ordered liver disaster, well... they were rolling on the floor, clutching their stomachs and screaming in pain. Luckily enough, I chose decaf vanilla walnut and stole the cookies of everyone who got liver disaster or sleepytime. Hehehe…

_Trouble4eva_ and _wingedwolf1_ walked in through the back door, covered in blood and eye goo. "Hey, guys! What… on Earth happened here?" _Wingedwolf1_ gestured towards _Cody, _Who had… the unfortunate soul, chosen liver disaster.

"Some have a rather… peculiar taste in tea…" I glanced at the Shrieking figures on the floor.

**About half an hour later…**

"So… he's kinda given up hope eh?" we all looked down at Dylan, lying on the floor. He was twitching and rasping for breath. "So… _Dylansux_, I believe this is your time to shine?" I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at my fellow mob member. "If you don't do it soon, he's gonna run out of magical saliva and die…"

"Mkay…" _Dylansux _unsheathed a marshmallow and raised it above Dylan, who looked up at us with pleading, but at the same time hopeless eyes. _Dylansux_ brought the marshmallow down, full force.

Dylan exploded on impact, the mob was sprayed with fragments of Dylan. Lovely…

"So, guys… umm… if you didn't really get a role in this chapter, I'll meet you again at the end of this fanfic. Okies?"

*Scott Pilgrim vs. the world refrence!


	26. Gaga

**Sorry I haven't been updating, I am only human. A lazy, procrastinating human.**

One day… I woke up.

But I did not wake up to the friendly sight of my bedroom ceiling. Or the photos of Max's ass taped to it.

I woke up to a terrible, ungodly, satanic, grotesque sight - people wrapped in bubblewrap and other household objects, standing in two lines, facing each other. We were in some kind of old building with stone pillars in the centre of the room, a statue to my left depicting some grotesque, misshapen creature and creepy pictures drawn on the walls in what looked like blood. The whole room was lit by flaming torches and bones littered the floor.

They were chanting and doing twitchy, spasmic movements that looked like they were trying to dance.

"Rom-ah ro-mama-a, Ga-ga oh la-la-a…" I then noticed that I was tied to a stone slab sacrificial-maiden style, completely naked except for the household objects and bubblewrap that I was "wearing." Once they realised I was awake, the chanting changed…

"I want yellow van, I want your revenge! You and me can ride a barrel, man!~"*

"THAT'S NOT THE LYRICS!" Someone pulled a shotgun out of their bubblewrap and fired it at the poor, incorrect soul. Their insides didn't exactly help the décor of the room.

They continued singing some weird, grotesque "song" until about 5 mins in, a door at the other side of the room opened, and a hideous blonde monster that I recognised from the statue walked in. It wasn't wearing much.

It walked into the centre of the room, and they all started singing and dancing to some song about poking people's faces. A whole bunch of stage lighting that I had not noticed before turned on, blinding me. I started to panic, surely Max would come in and save me, she loved me with such a lovely love that not even THE MAGNIFICENT DYLAN could put into words.

The blonde, half-naked entity walked – no, _strutted _up to me, I struggled feebly, now afraid. The blonde entity stood next to me and raised a knife, smiling, showing fanged teeth. Then it threw up on me. The puke was sparkly and had diamonds embedded into it.

Eww…

Then it stabbed my awesome self in my awesome stomach, it ripped out a few of my organs and danced around the room holding the end of my small intestines. I died.

Shame.

***That's actually what I thought the chorus for "Bad Romance" was when I first heard it. Listen to it! It really does sound like that!**


	27. Sharpener

**Thanks to: RandomDoodlesInClass for giving me a challenge with this one!**

**Dylan POV**

Here I was, the AMAZING DYLAN. Stuck in a stationary store.

"Where the hell do they sell the burgers in here?" I looked around me, seeing lots of schoolkids and businessmen obsessing over staplers and the like. "Maybe the stationary section, burgers are stationary, right?"

I looked around the corner, seeing that the coast was clear: I ninja-commando-rolled into the next aisle. I pressed myself against the shelves, holding my hands in the shape of a gun and humming the Mission Impossible Theme.

I turned around the corner with speed, aiming the "gun" down the aisle, then I ran straight into a fellow customer, I bounced straight off him and fell over.

Oh how I fell.

I fell with DIGNITY.

And MANLINESS.

And SO, SO MUCH DYLAN-TASTICNESS

Until, of course, I landed on the little metal sharpener on the floor. You know, one of those ones without a container attatched?

Yeah.

It embedded itself in the back of my head.

Painful, yes.

Until I died.

**DAS END**


	28. Insulting Iggy's cooking In song?

**I have been watching far too much Sweeney Todd… No, what am I talking about? There is no such thing as "too much Sweeney Todd."**

**This is a song called "The worst pies in London" from the Sweeney Todd Soundtrack. Sorry I cut enormous amounts out of it, but I had to make it fit the scene. And it would be weird if Dylan called Max "Sir."**

**Enjoy! :D **

**DYLAN POV**

One day I was sitting with Iggy in the kitchen of our temporary house in London. Iggy was making pies for lunch. Max walked in.

"What exactly are these?" She asked, nodding her head towards the pies.

I broke into song. Of course.

_These are probably the worst pies in London!  
I know why nobody cares to take them  
I should know,  
He makes them,(I jerked a thumb towards Iggy, who was glaring at me)  
But good? No!  
The worst pies in London…  
Even that's polite!  
The worst pies in London,  
If you doubt it, take a bite!_ (I shoved a pie into Max's mouth, she looked disgusted and horrified, it hadn't been cooked yet.)  
_Is that just disgusting?  
You have to concede it!  
It's nothing but crusting!  
Here, drink this, you'll need it!_ (I passed her a glass of Pepsi)  
_The worst pies in London...  
Only lard and nothing more -_  
_Is that just revolting,_ (Max spat the pie out into the bin.)  
_All greasy and gritty_  
_It looks like it's molting,_ (I gestured to one that Iggy was working on.)  
_And tastes like…_

A knife embedded itself in the back of my head, then Iggy began furiously stabbing me repeatedly. I died.

**The moral of the story is: Only watch Sweeney Todd if you are happy to have this song stuck in your head for weeks on end. And, of course…**

**Never insult Iggy's pies.  
**


	29. Chair

**Ok, I saw a scene pretty much the same as this on youtube from an anime called 'Higurashi No Naku Koro."And I am not afraid to admit that I was inspired!**

**PS: Sorry about the lack of updates, it's that time of year when you seem to have a project due every lesson, I procrastinated and the rest is history.**

**Dylan POV**

It was 6:00pm, I had just woken up. My thoughts set on breakflunchnner, (The name I had given to the meal) I walked downstairs to the kitchen and opened the fridge, groaning at the lack of bacon and donuts. I slammed the door shut and glared at the fridge magnets in a MANLY way. I trudged into the dining room, chin held high, sticking my chest out to look like DA MAN OF DA HOUSE. Angel was sitting on one of the chairs, reading a, like, one-thousand year old book. She didn't even note my MANLY PRESENCE! I strutted over to her, and scowled in that boyish-yet-incredibly-MANLY way of mine.

"What are you reading by yourself for?" I deepened my voice and stuck my chin out, demanding an answer. She frowned and wrinkled her nose, beginning to breathe through her mouth as if my MANLY STENCH was too much for her.

I snatched the decrepid book off of her and scanned through the pages. "What the hell is this? It doesn't make any sense at all." Angel growled and reached forward to take it back as I held it out of her reach- "What, you don't want it back? I guess this is just garbage now…" I grasped it in both hands, threatening to tear it. Angel growled and grabbed the backrest of the dining chair she was just sitting on. "What's wrong Angel?" I smiled at her.

She swung the chair around and let go - it hit me side-on, with a small not-quite-so-MANLY scream, I flew a metre or two across the dining room, the chair tumbling along with me. Choking back a MANLY sob, I rolled over to see Angel walking towards me, she had somehow managed to catch the book with her left hand, in her right was a chair being dragged by one of its legs across the floor. She had the most eerily neutral expression on her face as she sighed and raised the chair above her head…

CRACK! I yelped in pain as the backrest of the chair collided with my ribs. CRACK! CRACK! CRUNCH! SPLACK! CRACK! CRUNCH! Now full-on crying and lying in the fetal position, I heard Angel drop the chair next to my head. "Dylan, shut your mouth for a second. You were never, nor will you ever be part of the flock." She raised the book in her hand and gestured towards it, I saw that it was labelled 'Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles.' I gasped.

"_Dylan, if you want to last more than a few minutes, listen up; Rule number one: Don't get between Angel and her Sherlock Holmes stuff, and don't insult anything to do with them, she gets violent. Very violent." Max looked at me seriously, pointing a finger in my face._

"Also, don't fuck with my Sherlock Holmes books. And with that, It was nice meeting you." She raised the chair one last time and brought it down on my already concussed skull.


	30. Ceiling fan

**Once again, sorry about the lack of updates. This was written by my sister, enjoy.**

One day I was sitting in a puddle in the middle of the bathroom.

I don't know what the puddle was or how I got there, probably had something to do with that strange white powder I licked off that hobo. Anywhoo, I was writhing around in the aforementioned puddle when my AMAZING DYLANTASTIC DYLAN SENSES SENSED SOMETHING! They sensed that Max required something. The love of my life had a sudden craving for a lasagne sandwich (an unholy creation consisting of lasagne smooshed between two slices of garlic bread – a true American delicacy).

'DYLAN AWAY!' I yelled as I flew in an upward fashion to get my beloved her satanic nourishment. However there was one small issue. The industrial strength, turbo charged ceiling fan which had been installed a few days earlier. I ended up in liquid form all over the walls, terrifying Iggy due to my inconvenient splatter range and the fact that Angel had just eaten the last of the Windex. Oh well :(


	31. Pen lid

**A.N: I know he's been stabbed in the eye before, but I'm honestly running out of ideas and I really need to update, sorry. If you have any ideas you would like to submit, please review or PM me. (Btw: PM-ing is preferred if it's just ideas, but I don't really mind.)**

**DYLAN POV**

I had been staring at that damned sheet of paper for over an hour now, thinking. But it was hard to write a love letter when every single one of my thoughts drifted to Dora the Explorer. I continuously bashed my pen end on the table, leaving small, circular dents on the oak surface. Well, Dr. Martinez was going to kill me, but at least it would be for the sake of art.

Leaning back in the chair, hearing it creak under the sheer weight of my awesomeness – I rubbed my perfect blue eyes; and swore when my eyeliner smeared across the side of my knuckles. Choking back sobs, I put the pen lid back on and trudged up the staircase to the bathroom. Well, that's what I would have done – but the lid was stuck on the end of the pen. I constantly reminded myself every day that Max doesn't like dried-up pens. Being the AWESOME boyfriend-to-be that I was, I felt obliged to always put the lids back on. No matter what.

I gripped the lid and tried to rip it off as gracefully and as AWESOMELY as I could, but my hand slipped off and ended up with a skin-deep gash on the inside of my AMAZING index finger. Picking at the curling skin around the annoying wound, I came up with a DYLAN-TASTIC idea and covered my hand with my shirt before trying again, with less painful but nonetheless dissatisfying results.

My next idea was to grip the lid with my perfect pearly-green teeth and pull, only succeeding in ripping out one of my baby teeth. (Now that I think about it, losing baby teeth at age 16 is a bit weird.) I cried in pain, but smiled when I thought about all the money the tooth fairy would bring me. Walking up to my bedroom, I stuffed a tissue in my bleeding mouth and put the tooth under my pillow before trying again. Sitting on my bedroom floor with my hands in a pair of rubber gloves this time, I finally got the lid off, but my hand was pulling as hard as it could, the sheer force of it resulted in me stabbing myself in the eye with the pen lid.

Shrieking like some kind of exorcised demon, I flailed around on my bedroom carpet. Dry sobbing partly due to the indescribable pain, partly because of my ruined makeup, which was now beyond redemption. Warm blood was dripping down the left side of my face, through the hands covering the wound. Half my shirt was soaked and dripping with red. The dramatic blood loss was making me feel dizzy, so I propped myself on my hands and knees, shaking uncontrollably and watching the blood squirt onto my 'train-track print' carpet. I couldn't help the feeling of déjà-vu as I lost consciousness and died.


	32. Spontaneous Combustion

**A.N: My sister and I were bored one day, so we made a chapter where she wrote a sentence, then I wrote one and… yeah etc. The first line is hers. Enjoy the fruits of our combined forces:**

One day I was eating a shoe.

It wasn't a particularly fancy shoe (they did strange things to my bowel movements).

Then I gave birth to a zebra.

I named it Dennis, Dennis the DYLAN-TASTIC (though not quite as DYLAN-TASTIC as me) zebra.

OH FRUIT OF MY LOINS!

He was bee-yoootiful.

Almost as beeeeeee-yoooooootiful as that walrus I call Oprah.

I finished eating my shoe, spitting out the plastic casings from the shoelaces.

That was when I discovered that I was in fact a woman.

Wow.

Well, I should have guessed after giving birth to Dennis.

I quickly sat atop my trusty steed, Dennis and rode into the not-quite-sunset.

Then I peed sitting down as most women do.

Dennis didn't seem to like that too much.

So I gave him candy.

But I think our definitions of 'candy' were a little different.

By candy I mean I fed him Oprah's first born child.

Dennis had tasted human blood.

He went into frenzy and killed a few Kardashians.

No-one seemed to mind.

Then I stripped down into my leotard. Taking a deep breath, I dived into an obscenely large vat of lint rollers.

Dennis soon abandoned me to help some starving children in Africa.

I continued my search for the pink pimple of Whooplah.

I then spontaneously combusted :(

DAS END


	33. Fly spray

**Ok, let's see if we can get this fanfic rolling again now that I'm on holidays and too bored to procrastinate any more. P.S: I've realised that my writing was pretty (excuse my French) shitty in earlier chapters, if you want me to go back and improve the earlier chaps, just say so and I will oblige.**

There was a spider on the ceiling; and it was annoying THE AMAZING DYLAN to no end. Completely ignoring that he had no idea what "to no end" meant, he headed downstairs to grab the fly spray and a chair from the dining room. It was no easy task getting the chair up the stairs to his bedroom, especially with one hand holding the fly spray; but he managed with the help of his DYLAN-TASTIC SUPER STRENGTH.

He dragged the chair slowly across the multi-coloured tiles of the hallway, going slightly out of his way to step on every section of creaking floor. He wanted the spider to know that he was coming, he wanted to drag it out, wanted it to know that THE AMAZING DYLAN was coming to smite him using a bottle of fly spray, to instil fear in its arachnid-y heart. He couldn't help but grin at the thought of poisoning something; so many fond memories….

He reached his bedroom, twisting the doorknob slowly, before shoving it open with a loud BANG. He laughed evilly and held the can up in what he hoped was an EPIC DYLAN-TASTIC pose. Unfortunately, the spider was gone; he found this extremely dissatisfying. Unsure as to where the spider could possibly have gone; Dylan stood up on the chair and sprayed the toxic stuff around like a madman.

He only stopped when he _tasted_ the pathetic attempt at "lemon scented" and began to feel dizzy. He decided that he should probably get off the chair, he steadied himself as he lowered one foot off; then panicked when he felt himself dip to the left, he tried to right himself but ended up even more off balance, considering he wasn't dipping to the left in the first place. His vision started to black out, he felt himself falling backwards, there was a sharp pain in the back of his neck, and he knew no more.


	34. Nyan Cat

**AeroTundra suggested this! If you don't know what "Nyan Cat" is, I suggest Youtubing it. There really is one that goes for 10 hours, even 100! But I didn't make it past 23 minutes…**

**DYLAN POV**

It all started when Nudge told me to watch a video on Youtube, I saw that it went for 10 hours - but I honestly thought that I would be able to stop watching it once I started.

**0 minutes in**

NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN -

**1 minute in**

'Isn't it just adorable!' Nudge squealed over my shoulder.

'Well, I guess it is kinda cute… for a Pop Tart cat that farts out rainbows…" I mumbled.

**2 minutes in**

'_Hah, I can last through this!'_ I thought to myself as I smiled at the screen.

**3 minutes in**

'_It is getting a tad repetitive'._ But I was determined to last through this, so I could brag about it later.

**4 minutes in**

A headache was developing.

**5 minutes in**

I started to feel chills running down my spine. It was probably from the high-pitched NYAN-ing – or so I thought.

**6 minutes in**

The headache was gone, but my brain felt numb and slow.

**7 minutes in**

Was it just me, or were there two Nyan Cats?

**8 minutes in**

I only half-noticed that my head had dropped and was lying sideways on the keyboard; my computer was asking if I wanted to turn on Stickykeys.

**9 minutes in**

I had drooled a small puddle around my head; which had slid off the keyboard just after the 8 minute mark.

**10 minutes in**

NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN

**11 minutes in**

NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN

**12 minutes in**

NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN NYAN

**13 minutes in**

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	35. Middle Ages medicine

**I do not own Horrible Histories! If you want to see the sketch that this is (heavily) based on, Youtube it. I think the Middle Ages one is just called "Historical Paramedics" but all of them are hilarious.**

It was a stormy day; so even though everyone in the flock was phenomenally bored, they couldn't go flying, because the idea of getting struck by lightning didn't really appeal to them. Gazzy was curled up on the lounge with a packet of salt and vinegar chips, watching his favourite tv show – _Horrible Histories_. Just as it cut to an ad break, there was a loud thump from the dining room. Everyone ran to investigate the source of the noise, fearing the worst, but it was only Dylan unconscious on the floor. "Uh… what do we do?" Nudge piped from where she stood on the staircase. "Max?" She looked over at her.

"We can't take him to hospital or anything, obviously." Max looked like she honestly didn't care about Dylan's health, but welcomed the distraction from her boredom. "Any suggestions?" She looked around at her flock, but only received blank stares. "…anyone?"

"Umm… I only know what they did for this kinda stuff in the Middle ages…" Gazzy mumbled, he had seen it on _Horrible Histories,_ it was funny but… not a good idea.

"Well give it a shot, this could be interesting at best." Max had an expression of barely contained morbid interest on her face, mirrored by everyone present.

"Well, ok." Gazzy grinned as he leaned down next to Dylan's unconscious form. "It looks like he's fainted. We'll need a dead chicken" He rubbed a hand across his chin.

"A dead chicken… what is that going to do?" Iggy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, it's dead. It's not the chicken we need, it's the feathers."

"So, feathers from a chicken?" Fang inquired; Gazzy nodded.

A minute later, Fang was passing him a handful of bloodied feathers that had been unceremoniously ripped out of Dylan's wings. Gazzy ran to the kitchen, grabbed a box of matches and ran back to the dining room, where he lit the feathers and waved them in front of Dylan's face, filling the room with an unpleasant smell. "It's not working…" Gazzy mumbled.

"Hey, what's that on his arm?" Angel pointed to Dylan's wrist, which had turned purple on one side. "Looks like he bruised himself when he fell."

"In which case we need flour and bacon fat!" Gazzy stood up and turned towards Iggy. "I think you know what to do, Ig."

"Right on it." He made for the kitchen door, but Angel grabbed his sleeve.

"Hang on… they look odd…" She narrowed her eyes. "kind of… blotchy…"

"Skin disease. Agh, where are we going to get wolf skin at this time of night!" Gazzy all but yelled, enjoying being theatrical in this ridiculous situation.

"Total! Could you come here for a second?" With an innocent smile on her face, Max picked up a knife from the table where Dylan had previously been eating.

"It could be a boil!" Nudge blurted out, trying to save Total.

"The _Victorian_ cure for that is warm porridge." Gazzy chewed on his thumbnail. "I guess the Victorians were at least slightly more intelligent… it's worth a shot."

Five minutes later, Dylan's hand had been smothered in microwave porridge.

"Actually, it looks more like ringworm…" Fang pointed out.

"The Middle ages cure for ringworm is a hair wash in boys wee…" Gazzy recalled.

"Well Gaz; in that case, it's your time to shine!" Max crossed her arms and grinned at him. Everyone else in the room looked disgusted.

"Uh… okay…" He hesitantly started un-buttoning his jeans.

Two hours later, Dylan was dead, (and covered in porridge and urine); no-one knew what killed him, but it was obviously something more serious than fainting.


	36. The Common Cold

**I'm so, so sorry, it's taking a surprising amount of willpower to continue this fanfic, but I'll do it anyway, because I love you guys, but it will be slow. Warning you now.**

Dylan couldn't help the feeling that his life was stuck in a bit of a rut. Lately, it seemed as if he existed for the sole purpose of being kidnapped by mad scientists. At least the kidnappers were usually relatively humane, they needed the test subjects in one piece. Unfortunately, these guys didn't seem too bright, they didn't realise that he had a cold. Colds are generally annoying – it's a fact of life, but when you have duct tape covering your mouth, a blocked nose goes from irritating to a stupid cause of death.

He made several pained noises as he desperately tried to get the tape off his mouth by scraping his face against the floor of the van – but he only succeeded in getting a nasty carpet burn down his face. A tear ran down his face as his beautiful complexion was ruined – he would have to use so much makeup to cover the burn marks. He started screaming for his kidnappers to help him – but he was muffled quite effectively by the masking tape, and they were driving the van, listening to the radio quite loudly. No-one could hear him.

He was beginning to feel quite dizzy, he tried all sorts of things, including blowing air out through his mouth to unstick the tape – which was a terrible idea, as he now had next to no air left in his lungs. He rejected all of his DYLAN-TASTIC DYLAN-ESQUE MANLY DIGNITY and tried to unblock his nose by exhaling sharply, but to no avail – he only started getting dizzier before his vision swam, then blurred, then faded as he passed out, never waking again.


	37. Boredom

Dylan was waiting.

He'd been doing this for quite a while now. Well, by his standards.

"Fast food?" Pssh, yeah right. What "Fast food" took two minutes to prepare? Honestly, these people considered themselves worthy enough to waste two WHOLE minutes of THE FANTASTIC DYLAN'S precious time?

Ugh… He sank down lower in the cheap cubicle chair, which was covered in a thin coat of some unidentifiable sticky substance. Probably Fanta. Dylan started kicking the leg of the table in front of him.

Boooorrrreedddddd… Ughhh….

It was another few minutes before he leaned over and rested the side of his head on the table top, which was even stickier than the seat (if that were possible).

Soooo… Boredddd…

Unfortunately, his iPod had gone flat ages ago, and Nudge had the laptop and the iPod charger. The people in the restaurant were boring, too. Everyone was either an obese fast-food junkie, an annoying sticky-substance-secreting kid, or the mother of an annoying sticky-substance-secreting kid.

His vision began fading, but he didn't mind, well he didn't care anyway, anything was better than the mind-numbing boredom. What he didn't realise was that it was boredom killing him. So that's how Dylan died, annoyingly peacefully and painlessly, from boredom, in a fast food restaurant, mentally scarring all of the poor children. And he never got to eat his burger.


	38. Weeping Angels

**Ok, to everyone who isn't a Doctor Who fan: You can skip this chapter if you want, but I've tried to explain what the Weeping Angels are in the chapter.**

**Thanks to Randomdoodlesinclass for suggesting this ;D**

**P.S: Dylan does not represent me in any way, I love Doctor Who. Here goes…**

* * *

The flock were all crowded around the television, they had been staring at the screen for a few hours, having a Doctor Who marathon. They'd gotten through every episode of the rebooted series and were now - after a few days - up to season five, episode four. More commonly known as 'Time of the Angels.'

Dylan didn't like Doctor Who, he actually spent most of the time edging closer to Max, but she was sitting on the sofa next to Iggy, and he was on the floor. _Mission failed_. So instead he tried to absorb as much information as he could about the tv show, storing it away in his AMAZINGLY DYLAN-TASTIC SUPER COOL BRAINY-BRAIN for future reference, and so he could pretend to like Doctor Who, to be a little bit more like Max.

Meanwhile, in the episode, a recording was playing of a life-sized, stone angel statue facing the wall, but it was only four seconds of video being played over and over again, as the characters pointed out.

'_yep, it's an angel, hands covering its face.' The Doctor confirmed._

'_But it's just a statue…' Amy pointed out._

'_It's a statue when you see it.' River Song explained._

'_What does that mean, it's just a statue when you see it?'_

'_The weeping angels can only move if they're unseen, so legend has it.' River muttered._

'_No, it's not legend, it's a Quantum Lock, in the sight of any living creature, the angels literally cease to exist, they're just stone; the ultimate defence mechanism.' The Doctor explained._

'_What, being a stone?'_

'_Being a stone… until you turn your back.'_

Ah, now Dylan recognised them, from that episode a while back when that guy with the hair was The Doctor. He remembered in that episode if an angel touched you, they teleported you to a random point in history. The Doctor had been sent back to 1969, without that time-machine thing of his.

_Now Amy was watching the screen alone, the others had gone outside, creepy music was playing. Wait, the angel had moved, its head wasn't in its hands any more…_

_Amy went back outside to ask River if she had more footage of the angel, which would explain why it had moved._

'_No just the four seconds'_

So the recording was alive!

_Amy went back inside, the angel had moved again, it was facing her, arms outstretched as if in greeting. _A small squeak escaped Dylan, he was NOT SCARED… just… stressed.

_Amy looked down at the time displayed at the bottom of the screen. Yep, it was playing the same four seconds of footage over and over again. She looked back up at the angel, now closer. _

OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod…

_Back outside, The Doctor was looking through a book that was apparently about the weeping angels._

'_Pictures. Why aren't there pictures?'_

_Inside again, Amy tried disconnecting the Tv. The angel moved closer again. She headed back towards the door and tried to open it, it was hopelessly locked. She turned to face the screen again, the angel had a hideous scowl on its face._

'_Doctor!' She screamed._

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!

_It cut back to The Doctor and River, who were outside with the book. 'This whole book is a warning about the weeping angels, why no pictures?' The Doctor said, flipping through the book quickly._

'_There was that bit about images, what was that about?'_

'_Yes! Haaaang on… "that which holds the image of an angel becomes itself an angel…"' he read out from the book._

Oh dear…

_Back to Amy again, who was panicking almost as much as Dylan was. She started attacking the door, screaming for The Doctor, before she looked up again._

_The angel was in the room._

Max paused the DVD, a sadistic grin on her face 'Alright guys, let's leave it there for now, it's 10pm, time for bed.'

Max was pure evil, sending them to bed at a time like this, obviously on purpose… nah, he loved her too much to call her evil. After a round of protests from The Flock, everyone was in bed, falling asleep.

**Later that night/ early the next morning**

Dylan woke up feeling thirsty, a quick glance at his alarm clock showed that it was four in the morning, so he groaned, clambered up out of his bed and headed towards the kitchen. As he walked towards the kitchen, he glanced at the lounge room. His heart skipped a beat. Just in front of the paused tv was a stone angel, with its head in its hands.

FFFFFFFUUUUUUUU-

Paralysed, all he could do was gulp and blink in surprise. Bad idea.

The angel was suddenly facing him, having enough time to turn while his eyes were closed. He let out a squeak and took a step back in shock, this had to be a dream, had to be, no other explanation.

He slowly padded closer to the angel and glanced at the tv screen, the angel wasn't in the tv any more.

Obviously a dream, or he was going mad. No, THE FANTASTIC DYLAN was not mad! He had a far superior, DYLAN-TASTIC BRAIN as he had mentioned earlier. He pinched himself on the arm, nothing. So he wasn't dreaming? Maybe it was a ghost?

Ok, just ignore it and it'll go away…

He went into the kitchen and got himself that glass of water. He screwed the bottle closed and placed it back in the fridge, taking a swig of water. He closed the fridge door and spun around, to come face-to-face with the weeping angel, he comically spat the water out into the angel's scowling face. Nearly paralysed with fear and with his pulse hammering in his ears, he blinked again, bad idea… again.

He opened his eyes to a strange scene. People wearing strange historical costumes were staring at him, standing around in crowds, he appeared to be in a small, old-fashioned country town.

'What, are you guys doing a historical re-enactment or something?' Dylan asked them, completely unfazed. Then he remembered, _The Weeping Angels teleported people to a random point in history._

_FFS_

'Tis witchcraaaft…!'

'It just appeared out of nowhere!'

'Hey! Who you calling an IT?' He yelled at the woman, who screamed in fear and ran away.

'It's speaking in tongues!'

'No, it's casting a spell on all of us!'

'Dude, it's called an American accent…' He mumbled in annoyance.

'What is this Am-a-ree-can it speaks of?'

'You use the same language! You're in league with the beast!'

'No! I swear I'm not!'

'The clothes! Are they some kind of satanic robe!' One woman screamed, pointing at his High School Musical 3 dressing gown.

'The Devil's trickery!'

'The work of Beelzebub!'

'Burn the witch!'

After a few more minutes, he did get arrested and burned at the stake. Shame, but an interesting way to die, nonetheless.


	39. Power lines

**Ok, short? I know. I really need your help to finish this fanfic, if you give me ideas, I'll probably get initiative to keep writing this. It's just hard to come up with something original, funny and long at the same time. So if you have an idea, send it in! It doesn't matter how crazy.**

* * *

The flock was leaving Ella and Dr. Martinez's house again, on yet another mission to save the Antarctic ice or something. Because it made so much sense to send a bunch of barely educated, winged teenagers off into the middle of a few snowstorms where they could barely fly without their wings freezing over. Logic, gotta love it.

So anyway, after a hasty farewell, the flock all took turns to take a run-up, leaping into the air and snapping their wings out before soaring a few metres up to make room for the others. Unfortunately, Dylan wasn't as experienced as the others, nor was he looking where he was going. Naturally, he went head-first into the power lines.

BZAGGAHZGAHZGGAzgAGZZZXZAAUA UYAGHAFJBVHHVUIBONPHMQ!

There was no other way to describe the sound he made as a dangerous amount of electricity coursed through him from where his shoulder got snagged on the power-line. Blackened and more than a little bit dead, he dropped heavily onto the pavement. The charming aroma of burnt chicken filled the air, as the flock all looked at each other, shrugging, before flying off into the sunrise.


End file.
